Needle in a Haystack: Season 1, Episode 5
by bionic4ever
Summary: Season 1, Episode 5: Jaime and Steve find deadly danger in Greece, while Peggy and Russ find something unexpected at home. Thanks to everyone at The Bionic Project!
1. Prologue

**Needle in a Haystack**

Prologue

Oscar had a lot to think about on the flight home from Greece and plenty of time to think about it. The breech in security at Rudy's lab had been a false alarm – a set-up – but it was glaringly obvious now that improvements to the system were needed immediately. If Michael could create the illusion of a problem that easily, then there _was_ a problem!

What had happened to Michael, to make him turn so quickly into the prisoner they were now transporting back to the States in shackles? There had to have been something terribly wrong with him long before Jaime chose Steve over him because while that would certainly have been painful, it wouldn't drive a normal man to attempted murder.

And what about Jaime? Oscar knew that he and Steve had taught her to follow her instincts, but she also needed to _follow directions._ It was getting to be a problem – one Oscar wasn't sure how to address. On the mission to Greece, Jaime had been so wrapped up in solving the case that she ignored his orders to call in with any new information before acting on it....and it nearly got her killed. While she was still far from becoming a rogue agent and Oscar hesitated at the thought of stifling her free-spiritedness, something had to be done.

Oscar closed his eyes and tried to sleep. He'd need all the rest he could get – as usual, there were far too many 'somethings' on his plate.

- - - - -


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Jaime tossed restlessly in bed, the last 48 hours rudely invading her sleep. She'd had a wonderful evening with Steve, watching the sunset together before retiring to a private, candlelit dinner on the hotel terrace. However, it was Michael who'd popped up uninvited in her dreams. _The things I could do to you...._ he growled again, this time in slow-motion Technicolor. _I won't hesitate to kill you...you made me this way, Jaime...._

Jaime woke up with a start – to a gentle rapping at her hotel room door. "You decent?" asked the voice on the other side.

Jaime smiled, instantly shaking off the nightmare. "Be right there, Steve!" she chirped, tying on a robe and smoothing her hair before answering his knock. "Good morning," she said, leaning up to kiss him.

Steve took her into his arms...and his own smile disappeared. "You're shaking," he noted. "Is it your leg?"

"Just a bad dream; I feel a whole lot better now. What's that?"

Steve wheeled the covered cart into the room. "Breakfast, M'Lady," he said with a gallant flourish. He noticed that Jaime was favoring her good leg much more than she had the night before. "When we're done," he told her, "I'd like to take another look at that leg."

"I'll just bet you would," she answered flirtatiously. "Ooh...this looks really good!" Suddenly, she was starving...and Steve had thought of everything. There was fresh orange juice, along with eggs, bacon, toast...and two huge, gooey cinnamon rolls.

"Wanna tell me what the dream was about?" he probed gently as they dug into their breakfast.

"Not really."

"Michael?"

"Yeah....."

Steve nodded and reached for Jaime's hand. "You didn't make him psychotic any more than I did, Sweetheart – you _know_ that, right?" He smiled. "Got your favorite cinnamon rolls here...."

"Best medicine ever," Jaime agreed. "Thank you." She leaned over the table and kissed him. "Frosting on your lip," she told him, blushing.

"I'll do it again for another kiss like that one," Steve said...and he did.

- - -

"He's not in there!" Peggy Callahan called out as Russ breezed past her desk (without a greeting), headed into Oscar's office.

"Where'd he go?" Russ asked briskly, barely turning his head. "Callahan...?"

Peggy waited until Russ finally turned around, looking for an answer (so she had his full attention), then grinned at him broadly. "And a good afternoon to you, too!" she giggled.

Russ had to smile. "Sorry, Callahan." He returned to her desk, really looking at her for perhaps the first time ever. "Hi, hello and top of the afternoon," he said jovially, tipping an imaginary hat.

Callahan took a long, appraising look at Oscar's young assistant. How was it that she'd never noticed those eyes before? They were utterly....penetrating. "Cup of coffee while you wait?" she offered. Silently, she prayed that Oscar would take his time...

- - -

After breakfast, Steve rolled the cart into the hall and went back to Jaime. "Okay...hop up on the bed." When Jaime raised her eyebrows, he hurried to clarify. "So I can see how my patch job is holding." Jaime started for the bed....and nearly hit the floor as her damaged leg buckled beneath her. "I gotcha," Steve said, catching her and helping her to lie down.

"Not....a good sign," Jaime noted.

Steve probed a bit at the wires Michael's bullet had damaged. "Does that hurt?" Jaime shook her head. "Can you wiggle your toes?" he requested.

"How's that, Doctor?" she joked. The toes barely moved.

Steve couldn't hide his concern. "Sweetheart, I think we've got a problem....they moved just fine last night. It's only a guess, but I'm thinking the bullet could be moving around, damaging more circuits..."

"I don't wanna go home yet!" Jaime protested.

"If you trust me – and IF Rudy will let me – I think I can remove it."

"I trust you," she told him softly.

- - -

Rudy answered the page from the basement, where he and Oscar had been re-examining the vaults. He listened carefully to Steve's descriptions before responding. "If she's still not in any pain and you feel comfortable with it, you should be okay. Just be very careful....and keep me posted."

- - - - -


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

After an extended phone consultation with Rudy, Steve returned to Jaime with three bottles in his hand. "Vodka, red wine or brandy," he told her. "Pick your poison."

"It's ten o'clock in the morning!" Jaime protested with a curious look.

"Yep. And as soon as I get back from a little trip into Athens for a few supplies, you'll be having surgery in this very room. Granted, bionic surgery – so there'll be no bloodshed – but there's also no other anesthetic...so take your pick."

"Does Rudy know about this part?" Jaime queried.

"It was his idea."

Jaime sighed. "I'll take the brandy."

Steve handed her the bottle and a glass. "I know you're not much of a drinker, but I'd strongly suggest you forget that....just for today. I'll get you some ice."

"I'll drink it straight," Jaime said with a grimace.

Steve smiled reassuringly at her. "You've got about two hours, so bottoms up." With a kiss and a wink, he was off for Athens.

- - -

One cup of coffee turned into two and Peggy and Russ were taking their time, not really waiting for Oscar anymore. Then the phone rang. "It's for you," she told Russ, handing him the phone. "It's Mr. Goldman."

Russ let his fingers rest over Callahan's hand before taking the receiver from her. "Yeah, Oscar?" He listened for a moment. "Well, okay. Don't worry, I'll just grab something and catch up with you later."

"Is something wrong?" Peggy asked when he hung up.

"Oscar's still busy; he's with Rudy. So the lunch meeting we were supposed to have is off." He looked straight at Peggy and a smile spread across his face. "Are you free for lunch...?"

- - -  
When Steve returned, just over two hours later, Jaime had obviously taken his advice to heart. He hadn't seen her in that kind of shape since her college days. The glass on the bedside table was half full, but she was apparently ignoring it in favor of the bottle.

"Hiya, Doc!" she said with a huge, silly grin. "Been two hours....already?" She took another swig from the bottle but didn't argue when Steve then reached out and took it away.

"I'd say my patient is more than ready," he chuckled. "Why don't you just lie back and -"

"Whatcha buy?"

"Lie back on the pillow – and close your eyes," he instructed, opening the bag and laying his extremely rudimentary tools out on the table. He'd done simple bionic patch jobs before - jury-rigged things until Rudy could fix them for real – and he was familiar with the wires and circuitry involved....but unexpectedly found himself just a little bit nervous.

Jaime opened her eyes (halfway, anyhow) and smiled at him. "I trust you, ya know."

"Good; I'm glad. Now close your eyes and let's get started."

"Steve....?"

"Shhh....just rest." Slowly and _very_ carefully, he cut away a little of the synthetic skin – just enough to see the bullet's position.

"Steve...." Jaime said again, more insistently this time.

"What is it, Sweetheart?"

"I....love...you...." With that, the brandy did its job – and Jaime was sound asleep.

- - -

When Steve was finished, he admired his handiwork. The patch he'd made out of a thin sheet of vinyl was secure, but of course she'd have to keep it covered in public. Since the repair was a couple of inches above her knee on the outer portion of her thigh, Jaime's sarongs would hide it perfectly. Steve sighed with relief and poured himself some strong, black coffee while he waited for her to wake up.

Even passed out cold (and smelling like brandy) she was so beautiful that Steve couldn't take his eyes off of her. He couldn't help but replay what she had said, over and over in his mind: _I love you..._but was it only the liquor talking? Would Jaime remember any of it when she finally came to?

- - -

Russ and Peggy took a long, leisurely lunch; no one was waiting back at the office for them, anyway. They talked about everything imaginable, just getting to know one another and enjoying each other's company – and never once mentioned work, Oscar or the OSI.

- - - - -


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Oscar was in his office when Peggy and Russ returned, but if he noticed their conspiratorial smiles, he was too tactful to mention it. He busied himself at his desk, waiting for Russ to join him.

"Thank you for lunch," Peggy said, blushing. "You're such good company."

"The pleasure was definitely mine," Russ told her, gently touching her hand as she moved past him into her chair. "Can I call you? Outside of this place, I mean. Maybe...tonight?"

"I was kind of hoping you would." To herself, Callahan thought _I wonder what it's like to kiss him...?_

"Good. I'll talk to you tonight then." Russ smiled and headed into Oscar's office. He'd been so immersed in work and the OSI that he'd almost forgotten there was life outside of the suit-and-tie world he was so familiar with. Peggy seemed to see the man behind the suit, bringing out a side of him he didn't realize he had....and Russ liked it. A lot.

- - -

"Mornin', Sweetheart," Steve said as Jaime groaned and opened her eyes.

"It's...morning already?" Damn, her head hurt!

"Actually, it's almost dinnertime, but for you, it's morning." Steve handed her a glass of water and a couple of aspirin. "I'm guessing you need these."

"Thanks." Jaime downed them quickly. "It's...over?" she asked.

"Yep. Here's the culprit." He showed her the bullet, now sealed in a plastic evidence baggie.

"Doesn't look so bad, when it's in there," Jaime noted. She groaned again. "I don't feel so good..."

"I'm not surprised," Steve chuckled. "Drink a little more water."

"Okay, Doc," Jaime began after a couple of sips, "will the patient live?"

"Well...the patient must follow Doctor's orders explicitly...."

"And those are...?"

Steve grinned, reaching out to tenderly brush her cheek wish his fingertips. "Lots of rest, five more days of vacation....and kisses are thought to be most therapeutic."

"Are they now?" Jaime teased. Her eyes caught Steve's and held them prisoner. He had no choice but to lean over and kiss her. Jaime's arms drew gently around him, deepening and extending the contact. "Mmm....that _is_ good medicine." Jaime helped herself to another 'dose'. "That oughta get the ol' toes curling," she told Steve.

"Let's see – can you wiggle 'em for me?" This time, Jaime's toes did move – not to their full range, but much more than before. "Impressive," he told her. "I'll send you my bill in the morning."

Jaime looked at him....and her heart did cartwheels. "I think....I need a little more therapy!"

- - -

"What's up, Oscar?" Russ asked, taking a seat across from the big desk.

"Rudy will be adding another security measure to his vaults – individual codes so we know specifically who's been in there and when."

Russ nodded. "You're worried about something," he noted. "You don't think it's enough?"

"Rudy's got a good handle on it; that's not the problem. I'm worried about Jaime."

"I thought Rudy said her injury was minor."

"He did – and Steve removed the bullet with no trouble."

"Steve did? Well, that's great – so what's really on your mind?" Russ inquired.

"Jaime's still very new to this job," Oscar said slowly. "Her instincts are already among the best I've seen, but..."

"But – what?"

"She's a little weak on following specific instructions. Every single time I've sent her out, she's ignored at least one direct order and done things her own way."

"Has it ever worked out badly?" Russ pointed out.

"Well, no," Oscar admitted. "But along with learning to follow your gut, an agent _has_ to be able to take direction. Someday, it could be the difference between life and death. Sure, Jaime goes off on her own tangents with damn good results, but -"

Russ had to laugh. "You do know you've just described the female equivalent of Steve?"

"And _that_ is exactly what I'm worried about," Oscar concluded, laughing a bit himself as he lit his cigar.

- - - - -


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The phone rang just when Oscar was getting ready to make an early night of it. (Leaving before 8pm, for him, constituted an early night.) The voice on the other end was strident, urgent. "Oscar? Jack Hansen," Jack had taken over Michael's interrogation after Oscar had given in to the urge to connect his fist with Michael's face.

"What is it, Jack?"

"We've got a problem – you need to get down here fast. And bring Rudy Wells with you."

Before he could ask any questions, Oscar heard Hansen hang up – and he sighed. Something told him this would be a very long night.

- - -

Russ kept his word, calling Peggy within minutes of returning home. It wasn't enough; he _had_ to see her again. "Feel like having a few drinks?" he offered.

Peggy jumped at the chance to see him again, and within the hour they were happily nestled in a cozy little booth, toasting each other with martinis.

"When you were a kid," Peggy began, "what did you want to be when you grew up?"

"Not this," Russ told her. "Believe it or not, I wanted to be..." he paused. "It's a little embarrassing..."

"C'mon....what was it? You can tell me," Peggy coaxed, taking his hand and smiling directly into his eyes.

Russ had never admitted this to another living soul, but somehow, now he could – to her. "I wanted to be a circus clown." He waited for her to laugh at him, but she didn't. "How about you – what did you want to be?"

"You'll think I'm lying...."

"Fair is fair; I told you mine...."

Peggy giggled in her chirpy, little girl way. "A ballerina."

"You'd have made a beautiful ballerina," Russ affirmed. "You're a beautiful woman, Peggy."

Peggy blushed a deep shade of crimson and her insides turned to melted butter. "I don't think...that anyone's ever said that to me before."

Russ scooted over and gave her a soft peck on her cheek. "I'll be happy to say it again tomorrow – if you'll let me..."

- - -

"You're spoiling me," Jaime said when Steve arrived bright and early to bring her breakfast in bed.

"Gotta make sure my patient is well taken care of," he told her lightly. "Complaining?"

"Depends....you bring cinnamon rolls?"

Steve grinned, kissing her good morning. "Of course." He couldn't believe how beautiful she looked this early in the day. With tousled hair, no make-up and sleepy eyes, Jaime still looked radiant. "How's your head?"

"Good night's sleep did the trick," Jaime answered, digging into her cinnamon roll. "What?" she giggled. "I wasn't _that_ drunk!"

"Oh, really?" Steve laughed, raising a doubtful, teasing eyebrow.

"I remember everything that happened – and everything I said."

Steve scarcely dared to breathe....

Jaime's eyes sparkled with the excitement of what was on her mind. "Steve...? I meant every word..."

- - -

"What the _hell_...?" was all Oscar could manage as he stared into Michael's cell. Michael was on his feet, walking around and around in a near-perfect square, one step wide, in the far corner of the cell. Each step was exactly 90 degrees, his movements robotic and stiff. He stared straight ahead with dark, completely blank eyes.

"He's been this way since we...ah...got him off the floor," Hansen explained. "How hard did you hit him?"

Oscar frowned. "Not _that_ hard...!" Had Michael hit his head on the way down? Oscar wasn't sure now. "Has he said anything?"

"Not a word. We've tried questioning him, shouting at him – even threw cold water in his face," Hansen replied. "He just kept....doing....that."

"Let me check him out," Rudy offered, stepping forward. "Michael? Sit down and let me take a look at you." There was no response – just the same precise square-cornered march. Rudy reached into his pocket for the syringe he'd grabbed at the last minute, took Michael's arm and plunged the needle in. "This'll put him out," he called back over his shoulder to Oscar and Hansen. Michael didn't flinch at the injection; he didn't even blink in acknowledgment. Several minutes went by while they waited for the drug to take effect...but it didn't happen. Michael continued his march with zombie-like intensity and even when Rudy grabbed him, he was unable to stop the robotic movement.

"Help me here!" he called to the others. Oscar and Hansen stood in front of and behind Michael, barely able to keep him in position while Rudy looked him over. He checked Michael's eyes, which never seemed to blink – then reached for his wrist.

Rudy's jaw dropped in utter disbelief. "He....he has no pulse!" The men took a step back, and the marching continued.

- - - - -


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"Is he...bionic?" Oscar gasped.

"There's no neck pulse, either," Rudy told him. "Guard! Bring me a razor blade!" Upon seeing Oscar and Hansen's shocked faces, he shrugged. "No pulse means no blood – and we have to know what we're dealing with." He glanced at 'Michael'. "You'll probably have to sit on him to hold him still." When the guard returned, he helped Hansen and Oscar wrestle the still-marching man to the floor...and they sat on him. 'Michael' didn't struggle or try to throw them off, but his feet never ceased their strange, frenzied movements.

Working quickly, Rudy cut open the index finger on each hand. "My God..." he whispered. "Wires...!" He made a larger cut, further up the arm where a bionic power pack would be located, then sat back on his heels. "There's no power pack here – and these circuits aren't bionic. They're _robotic_. Oscar, when you hit him, the fall – or the punch – must have loosened a circuit and that's why he....I mean _it_ is like this. The workmanship here is amazing!" Rudy exclaimed, the scientist in him taking over. "Simply fascinating!"

Oscar was neither amazed nor fascinated. "Where's the _real_ Marchetti?" he asked in a dark, somber voice. "He could be a victim, too, I suppose – but my guess is he made this...._thing_ -"

"He would definitely have the know-how and talent to do that," Rudy agreed.

"We need to find Austin and Sommers!" Hansen concluded.

Oscar nodded. "_Before_ Michael does."

- - -

It took Jaime most of the morning to convince Steve that her leg was in good enough shape for a walk on the beach. "Besides," she pointed out, "it's cloudy today, so we don't hafta worry about half-tans or crowds or...anything. We can just enjoy the day."

"Jaime, I love you," Steve said softly – and relished finally being able to give voice to his emotions with her. "I don't think we should take chances."

"You're worse than Rudy," she pouted. "It doesn't hurt, I can walk just fine – and if I do fall, I have every hope that the most handsome man on the planet will catch me."

Steve had to admit it; she had a point. "Alright, but I may just have to pick you up and carry you into the surf for a first-class dunking."

"You haven't dunked me since we were kids," she laughed, wondering idly where that memory had suddenly come from.

"Exactly. You're long overdue." Steve took Jaime's hand and helped her to her feet. She seemed steady enough to reassure him. "Let's go, then."

They were already in the elevator and halfway to the lobby when the phone rang...

- - -

"Dammit – where are they?" Oscar fretted, taking it out on the phone by slamming down the receiver.

"We've got a nation-wide APB out on Marchetti," Hansen said, rejoining him. "And I sent an alert to Interpol. We'll find him, Oscar."

Rudy wasn't far behind. "We did a scan," he announced. "There were power sources in the forehead and the chest. We've got the thing neutralized."

"How did it answer our questions, Rudy?" Oscar wondered.

"There was no tape player on it, but I did find a speaker and several powerful long-range transmitters, so when we heard Michael's voice...it _was_ Michael speaking. God knows from where, but it was him; it had to be. Utterly fascinating piece of equipment."

"Can you track the transmitters?" Hansen asked.

"No. They'd already been powered down when we neutralized the robot. Michael must have realized something was wrong and shut down the system."

Oscar grimaced with the realization of just how dangerous Michael had become – especially to Jaime and Steve.

- - -

"In you go!" Steve chortled, dangling Jaime playfully over the water.

"Steve! It's probably freezing!"

"Let's find out," he said, diving under with Jaime firmly in his arms. "Now comes the fun part," he told her when they surfaced. "I'll have to warm you up."

"Ooh...I like that part!"

With Jaime still cradled in his arms (and up to his waist in the surf), Steve kissed her long and hard....until neither of them felt cold any longer.

- - - - -


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Just...fascinating!" Rudy said to himself, still unable to stop admiring the robot's workmanship. He looked up to see Oscar in the doorway. "Did you find Steve and Jaime yet?" he asked hopefully.

"No," Oscar told him. "I've got Russ watching the phone. I left urgent messages for both of them – even had them paged – but not a word, so far." Oscar joined his friend in examining the Michael-bot. "Rudy, can you revive those transmitters, to get a message to Marchetti?"

"Not without powering up the entire robot – but I'm still working on it."

"Good. Thank you." Oscar gave the thing one more glance...and shivered. "I'd better get back to the office. Russ was acting a little strange tonight."

"Really? How so?"

Oscar shrugged. "He was...smiling."

"Oh, the humanity," Rudy chuckled.

- - -

"Should we check in with Rudy?" Jaime wondered as she and Steve toasted with two big blue umbrella drinks.

"Are you in any pain?"

"No...."

"Last time I talked to him, he said to call twice a day, unless you were in pain. We called him this morning, so we're good for a few more hours," Steve told her.

"What about Oscar?"

Steve laughed. "Is someone here feeling homesick? Oscar said he doesn't wanna hear from us for five more days....and you know we _have_ to follow orders."

"Right – orders." Jaime grinned and raised her glass. "Here's to following orders!" she toasted.

- - -

Oscar had been right – it _was_ a really long night. He finally sent Russ home for a few hours of sleep but couldn't relax himself. It was around lunchtime in Greece – most likely Jaime and Steve were outside, enjoying the temperate weather over sandwiches and drinks. Maybe he could have a busboy look for them. If not, perhaps an Interpol agent would have to be sent in...

He was so deeply entrenched in finding them before Michael did that he barely looked up when Russ and Callahan got off the elevator together...hand-in-hand.

- - -

"This thing is HUGE!" Jaime exclaimed, getting cucumber sauce all over her face as she bit into her gyro. "So how come yours isn't slopping all over you?

Steve shrugged. "I have bigger hands."

"Excuse me...are you Colonel Austin?" a very young, very nervous busboy asked.

"Yes." Steve took a pen from his pocket, believing the boy wanted an autograph from an American astronaut.

"You have an urgent message at the front desk," the boy said, extremely out of breath.

"I'll get it as soon as we've finished our lunch," Steve promised.

The busboy shifted from one foot to the other, obviously uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Sir, but the man said to get you immediately. He's been trying to reach you for hours -"

"Who is it?" Steve asked.

"They have the name at the desk. The clerk told me if I couldn't find you – _right now_ - this guy will send in the police!"

Jaime and Steve looked at each other and rolled their eyes. "Oscar," they both laughed.

"Okay, Kid," Steve said, taking one more bite of his gyro. "I'm coming."

"Want me to come with you?" Jaime offered.

"No – you rest that leg; I'll be right back." Steve followed the busboy to the desk...and called Oscar. "That was a quick five days, Oscar," he joked.

"Where's Jaime, Pal?" Oscar asked urgently. "Is she with you?"

"She was...until I called you. She's fine – she's out on the veranda, finishing her lunch."

"Steve," Oscar didn't know how to say it except to blurt it straight out. "Marchetti's still out there – and he could be in Greece."

"What – how the -"

"We arrested a robot, Steve. I'll explain later – go and get Jaime right now and take her back to her room. Call me from there."

Steve hung up the phone and raced back to the veranda. The sandwiches were still on the table, but Jaime's drink had spilled....and Jaime was gone.

- - - - -


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

The bartender on the veranda had happily pocketed his huge tip (for 'seeing nothing') but when he saw Steve return to the table looking frantic with worry, he just couldn't keep quiet. "You just missed her," he called out.

Steve turned around. "Where is she?" he demanded. _Please tell me she spilled her drink on herself and went up to change...._he prayed silently.

"She left with some guy -"

"What'd he look like?"

"Tall, skinny...dark hair. He had his arm around her."

Steve's heart sank like a lead brick. Marchetti must have had a gun. "Did she look scared?"

"I – I'm not sure."

"Did they go inside?" Steve asked, his pulse doing triple time.

"No....they got in a car and left. I think she fainted or passed out or...something. It looked like she went all limp, right before he put her in the car."

"Stay right here," Steve told him, running back into the hotel. He would have an Interpol agent question the man further. Right now, he had to call Oscar.

- - -

Jaime woke very slowly, at first unsure what was real...and what was a nightmare. From the musty smell and the lack of light or windows, she guessed she was in a basement, and she was once again shackled and cuffed, lying on an old, rusty cot, alone. The last thing she could remember was _Michael_ – but that must've been a bad dream! She'd seen him hauled off by Interpol, with her very own eyes! Still, she thought she remembered being grabbed suddenly from behind, by an arm pressing a gun to her chest. She'd whipped her head around and barely glimpsed Michael's face...then a needle poke – and everything went black.

Then she saw _him_, sitting in the far corner of the basement, leering at her. "Good – you're awake," he said with a cruel sneer. He got up and moved to stand menacingly over the cot. "The cavalry won't come rushing in this time, Jaime. We're all alone...."

- - -

"I need every available agent on this!" Oscar hollered into the phone. "And if they aren't available..._get them!_ This is a Code Snow White – top priority. I want updates every 10 minutes until you find them!"

He looked around the room at the people gathered there. Rudy, Hansen, Russ and Callahan were all white with shock...and fear. Steve had quickly confirmed that Jaime was not in the hotel or anywhere on the grounds. There was virtually nothing that could be done from halfway around the world, but the team in Oscar's office was determined to do something – _anything_ – to find Marchetti...and Jaime.

"Interpol's at the hotel and they've got a witness," he told the group. Callahan leaned into Russ for support, barely able to hold back her tears, but Oscar was too preoccupied to notice.

"How's Steve holding up?" Rudy asked. "Did he see _anything?_"

Oscar shook his head. "He's trying to hold it together, but he's a wreck. And Michael's car was already gone when Steve got back out there. According to the witness, it was definitely Marchetti – he's got Jaime...."

- - -

Steve felt completely and utterly bereft. In his gut, he knew Jaime was in the worst possible kind of trouble...and he had no clues to work with! Interpol was running a trace on the car (the bartender was able to give the make and a partial plate) but even if they came up with the information, they would have no location. Marchetti had gotten at least a five to ten minute head start, and it would be next to impossible to find where he'd taken Jaime. Like searching for a needle in a haystack....but Steve resolved to turn over every rock (and every haystack) in Greece, if he had to. He'd give his life to save her; he'd always felt that way. This time, he knew, it just might come to that....

- - - - -


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Jaime could remember a time (not that long ago) when Michael had held her with a gentle touch – and kissed her – but the Michael who loomed over her now was a different person in the same body. His mouth twisted in an evil, warped grin and his eyes were near-black and frightening. Was there a little piece of the old, tender Michael still hidden somewhere deep inside of him? While she searched for a way out of her predicament, Jaime tried to find out.

"How'd you get away from Interpol?" she asked softly.

"I didn't. They have their prisoner locked away...and you have me."

"I don't understand...."

Michael laughed. "You don't need to understand. It's over. Rudy Wells has destroyed my work for the last time. Now I get to destroy his!"

"So it's not about 'us' anymore, Michael?" Jaime probed.

"It can't be, can it? You _killed_ 'us', Jaime! I offered you my heart...and you stuck a dagger in it!"

He began to pace around the cot, and Jaime turned to try and follow him with her eyes, wincing as the hard metal of the cuffs bit cruelly into her left wrist. "I'm sorry, Michael," she said quietly. Jaime noticed that he no longer seemed to have the gun. It was a ray of hope, and she clung to it as she planned her next move....

- - -

Russ helped Peggy back to her own desk, tenderly wiped away her tears and kissed her on the cheek, not caring who saw him. "It'll be alright," he told her. "We'll find Jaime."

"She's my best friend," Callahan sniffled. "She needs help and there's nothing I can do....nothing!"

"You can pray," Russ said, very quietly. He took Peggy's hand. "Besides, I think we're all underestimating Jaime here. She just might find a way out of this....all on her own...."

- - -

"We've got another hour before your new owners get here," Michael told Jaime. "Not enough time for your knight in bionic armor to find you – but plenty of time for what I have in mind."

"What's that?" Jaime asked, dreading the answer but trying to stall him.

"I think you know. I'd like to give you a taste of what you gave up."

"I'd like that, too," Jaime lied, forcing herself not to panic. "I just wish I could hold you, and -"

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Michael thundered. He slapped Jaime hard across her face then did a complete 180 and leaned in to kiss her. "Isn't that better?" he crooned. "Might as well give you a treat in your last hour alive."

Jaime waited, cringing inside, until he was almost on top of her, then gathered all her remaining strength, swung her bound legs upward and kicked him – hard – in the groin. The blow sent him reeling backwards, cursing wildly until he landed in a silent heap on the cement. Jaime didn't wait to find out if he was unconscious or dead. Seizing her only opportunity, she jumped off the cot and hobbled a few inches at a time to the basement stairs. She could hear Michael beginning to stir and she hopped up the steps one at a time, as quickly as the shackles would allow...and stepped out into the sunshine.

She wondered if she'd kicked Michael hard enough to kill him – she hoped not, since she relished the thought of seeing him face justice. On the other hand, if he was alive, he could come after her at any moment...and she couldn't exactly run away. Her head was still reeling from whatever he'd given her, but Jaime knew she might have only seconds to plan. There were no passing cars to flag down, no nearby buildings to hide in...and now she heard Michael limping up the stairs, cocking his gun.

- - -

Interpol agents were everywhere, scouring the city of Athens and the outlying areas, trying to sight the car, the fugitive or his prisoner. One of their units finally located the vehicle – abandoned in a hayfield with no sign of Michael or Jaime...until a distant gunshot pointed them in the right direction.

- - - - -


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Steve heard the Interpol radio spark to life, broadcasting the vehicle's location – and then the call of 'shots fired'. He grabbed the nearest agent and demanded "Take me there – _NOW_." There was nothing more on the radio for several very long minutes as they drove, except for unit after unit confirming that they were reporting to the scene – and the original unit calling back in to say they were searching the area for the shooter...and the victim.

- - -

Jaime dropped the garbage can lid she'd just used to smack Michael in the face (sending several bullets wildly through the air as he went down) and hobbled calmly over to where he lay on the ground, bleeding profusely from his nose. "Not bad aim for behind my back, huh?" she told him. He was still conscious but the blow had stunned him. Jaime eyed the gun, still gripped tightly in his hand, and hopped on it with all the bionic strength two shackled legs (one of them injured) could muster – crushing the gun. She managed to somehow miss all but the tips of Michael's fingers.

Michael swung his other arm around, grabbed Jaime's ankle chain and yanked hard. The unexpected move threw her off-balance and she fell to the ground then hurriedly tried to roll away....but he held the chain firmly in his one good hand. The garbage can lid was just inches away from her, but with her hands behind her back, Jaime was unable to grab it this time. She drew her knees up and back, trying to kick him off but, furious and in pain, Michael jerked again and Jaime's head hit the pavement.

"Dammit, Jaime, just give up!" Marchetti snarled. He rose to his feet and loomed threateningly over her, his hands balled into fists. Jaime's head was pounding even harder than her heart, but she refused to black out. She could hear sirens in the distance, coming closer, and as Michael began to pummel her, Jaime raised her feet and landed a solid kick that caught him across both ankles. She didn't even cringe when she heard the bones snap. This had been a battle for her life – and she had won.

She struggled to stand up, determined that Interpol wouldn't find her lying on the ground, victimized. She stared triumphantly at her would-be killer...and smiled. "This time, Michael, **I** took you down!"

- - -

Jaime declared that she had seen "quite enough of Greece for this lifetime, thanks" - and they returned to the States. Her leg was repaired back to its original condition and she'd spent two precautionary nights in the hospital under Rudy's watchful eyes. Callahan had insisted on preparing a celebratory dinner for both Jaime and Steve before Jaime went back to Ojai, and Steve couldn't resist stealing one more kiss before ringing Peggy's doorbell.

Callahan was practically bouncing with excitement as she answered the door. Before heading into the living room, Jaime couldn't help noticing that the dinner table was set for four. "Is Oscar coming?" she asked.

Callahan beamed. "Guess again."

"Rudy?" Jaime had no idea.

"Tell you what..." her friend bubbled. "C'mon in and have a drink!"

Jaime looked at Steve, who shrugged, and together they followed Peggy into the living room. Russ rose from the couch to greet them, shaking Steve's hand, smiling at Jaime and then wrapping his arm cozily around Callahan's waist. Steve and Jaime grinned, too surprised to say anything at first, until Peggy handed them each a glass of wine. Both couples raised their glasses high in the air and clinked them. Steve made the toast for everyone:

"It's about time!"

END OF EPISODE FIVE


End file.
